The Curse
by Ryodin
Summary: The knight Lyone is cursed by Arthas, but can this curse become a blessing?
1. The Curse

Here we go. My first Warcraft fic, and its disclaimer; I don't own Warcraft, I dont own the idea of it, I don't own any of this aside from my plot-line. Don't sue me, I didn't make any money off this anyway.

Feel free to send any corrections or suggestions to my e-mail- or put it in as a review.

The Curse

Arthas lay beneath the blade of a knight. Lyone's lip was curled in disgust, blood of many men, including Arthas, pooled around Lyone's feet. The stench of ages old rot surrounded them both.

Two-dozen knights had met a force of the Scourge, now the knights all lay dead. The Scourge there was once more dead. His mount, Hellsbane, who he had named his blade for, was gutted twenty feet away.

Arthas shifted, one hand clutching a gut-wound. Lyone's blade pressed into his throat.

Killing him would accomplish nothing though. A well guarded alter would bring him back shortly anyway.

"Why should I let you live!" Lyone snarled anyway.

"I," Arthas began through teeth gritted in agony, "I'll give you an artifact!"

His eyebrows rose at this. He pressed the blade to draw a line of blood from the traitor. He let up and pulled Hellsbane from the prince's neck.

Even if he assaulted with his magic, which was exhausted, Lyone would survive one strike, and finish his the next moment. Imposing himself between Arthas and that unholy sword of his, "Well?"

"I need Frostmourne to break the geas I set on t." He lied.

Lyone stepped away none-the-wiser.

Arthas' cloak shimmered unnaturally as he passed, his hands wrapping on the blade's hilt. Obstructing Lyone's view with his body, a pale green power flowed from the sword and Arthas, into his gauntlets.

Arthas turned to the knight, stripped off the gauntlets, and threw them at his feet. The young knight stooped to pick them up while Arthas stood holding the same wound with death-cold hands.

Their camps were in the opposite directions, so they walked uneasily past each other; their blades swaying slightly with their stride.

Frostmourne swung out as they passed. The hilts hit with a green and silent crackle of power. Arthas knew his blade acted of its own accord frequently… so he decided to leave this unchallenged.

* * *

Lyone made his way to the smith once back into camp. The man issued a replacement shield and gave a questioning gaze to the black gauntlets.

The man shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I don't see how you kept that sword, Hellsbane you called it? In good condition through that."

"Me either," he replied honestly, "I'd have sworn on the cross it was dented and had lost edge in some places. And I don't _think_ I wiped it off, but the blood is gone."

The smith shrugged and reminded him to get a new mount from the stable.

"No… I cant after loosing my last…"

Lyone quickly dashed away and scanned the encampment. Their commander was surrounded by a troop of footmen. He made his way to the back of the group, just as the order to move was given.

Ryo turned to see Lyone, they had trained together but Ryo got the promotion.

"Where is the rest of the-" he began.

"A hoard of the Scourge, led by Arthas." It was all he needed to say.

"No one else then?" Ryo questioned looking around, a glint of hope in his eyes.

"No," the hope disappeared.

Ryo looked at him with a grimace. "Damn." He turned back to the footmen, then to Lyone. "Go with them. A scout found some fat living bandits and we need those supplies."

Lyone saluted and ran to join their ranks.

Finally given a moment to think he considered the 'artifact.' It felt cold, but a different cold than temperature. No matter, it was enchanted, some oddities had to be tolerated. His grip felt more firm, his shield lighter, and easier to hold for long times. His sword, Hellsbane, had that similar cold to it now. But it seemed to pull on him also.

Lyone had found his way to the found of the group by the time they entered the bandit's clearing.

A small smoking fire roasted what might have been part of a gnoll; all the men dropped their cards, dice, or whatever they were holding, to take up arms.

The shouting roused their leader who came running from his tent, sword naked in his hand. A barrel of a man, over six foot tall and hairy all over.

"Go!" The man bellowed.

By that time the charging soldiers had reached the camp. Two bandits still scrambling for a weapon were in Lyone's path; his blade came out and cut one man in half, then plunged it into the other's chest.

Lyone kicked the body off, feeling a slight tingle through his sword and gauntlets, while the pull grew stronger.

The bandit leader took up a crossbow in his off hand to cut down a footman and fire a bolt through another's neck.

Another bolt fired at Lyone, his shield shot up easily to have the bold break on impact. The bandit's sword came down to cleave Lyone.

Again he saved himself with his shield, pulling up to block the deathblow.

The force bent sword and shield alike and throw the shield back with the force of the blow. Lyone's left side was thrown back leaving him sideways toward the bandit. However the bandit had no bolt in his crossbow and his blade was still thrown above his head.

The knight jabbed Hellsbane toward the bandit, catching the crossbow as the bandit desperately tried to save himself. He jabbed harshly, hitting the man bluntly with his own weapon; then swung the word, throwing off the wooden missile.

It hit squarely on the man's face, dropping him cold.

Lyone spun around, some were still finding weapons; one well-trained man was backpedaling while tossing bowls, troches, and anything he could find.

Eventually he found a sword. Lyone watched him hold against three footman for a full minutes before joining the fray and gutting him.

Lyone check the surrounding area, tents and crates mostly.

"Dismantle the structure! And start carrying everything back. We've got a dozen strong, should only be three or four trips!" He yelled commandingly. The men cleaned their weapons and hefted boxes; headed back.

A disturbing mist caught Lyone's eye.

He made his way behind the tent to find it flowing from a corpse. _A Death Knight! How in the nine hells did these guys take a Death Knight! _Lyone crushed its skull to be sure and went to search the leader's tent.

An elaborately carved wooden box was beside his bed, Lyone got around the lock by prying it open with his (again) strangely clean sword.

The carved box splintered as it opened, a small sparkling clear orb was inside. No larger than the decorations nobility put on their sword hilts.

_Payment for my troubles… _

The men passed Lyone on their way back. He had the unconscious bandit leader on his shoulder, a crate of weapons hefted in his right arm, and two shields in his left hand.

They applauded shortly before rushing off to compete with load carrying.

Lyone dropped his burden at the smith, aside from the bandit. He was thrown to the commander, Ryo's feet.

"His little force took a Death Knight sir. I don't see how."

Ryo nodded grimly, "I'll interrogate him." He signaled for a footman to get to the task. While he was being carried off Ryo spoke again. "Get some rest. We're leading another charge as soon as the next assault against _us_."

"Sir!" Lyone saluted and went back to his barracks.

* * *

The clear stone shimmered on the inside. A moving sparkle. Lyone inspected it in his right hand with his left on his hilt. The stone fascinated him

So much so that he relaxed his senses for the first time since he fought Arthas.

Then it struck.

Hellsbane and his gauntlets at his bedside started to glow a sick green. The slight pull finally snapped. Something in his suddenly began to be pulled toward the glowing witch-blade.

Lyone couldn't get his left hand to release the hilt, so he hit it off with his right.

The stone stuck to Hellsbane, and his right hand to the stone.

_Arthas lost his soul to Frostmourne, did he curse me too! _Lyone knew, he would be part of the Scourge if his should leave him.

"Damn you!"

Lyone had acquired a small audience; one man was calling for the medic.

The inner warmth of his soul was fed out of his arm; the stone shone brilliantly until he felt the last of it leave him. He blacked out while the stone went back to its usual shimmer.

Lyone awoke at least a day later. Through the window he could see it was early morning. Clash of steel and bone was filling the air. The knight leapt out of his bunk and snatched the gauntlets and sword.

The sparkling stone was fused to the hilt of Hellsbane. He felt a little cold while apart from it, but with it at his side it vanished.

His hand dropped to the crystal imbedded in the hilt.

_Little traitorous and dishonorable bastard; that Arthas has turned out to be, but it looks like I saved my own ass._

Lyone rushed out the door to find his camp dying.

Ghouls were hording into camp from a nearby forest clearing. As men fell to the cannibals,; Necromancers raised them to join the undead ranks.

"Great time to leave my shield."

Ryo was defending himself against three now raised-footman. That was Lyone's priority.

Claws scrapped against Ryo's shield, a Ghoul had joined in. His heart fell.

His footing slipped, Ryo fell to the ground and raised his shield, parrying swords with his last ditch attempt.

Lyone beheaded two ex-footman and slashed at the Ghoul, the undead warrior tried to catch the sword in his claws; both hands cracked wetly letting Hellsbane lodge in the creature's chest.

It wriggled and writhed while Ryo cut the last undead footman in two.

The Ghoul stopped moving, and Lyone pulled the word from it.

"How in the!" Ryo began. "Fuck it, tell me later-" Lyone vaguely thought about that habit Ryo had. He only cursed in _horrible_ situations. "Right now we need to hold. Reinforcements are very close to our camp. They'd be slaughtered if they got to an undead base instead."

Lyone saluted, "Sir, stay with me, we need you." Ryo smirked and nodded.

* * *

Lyone crumpled to the ground. A mage of sorts began treating the wound he had, first the three large gashes in his inner thigh.

Twenty minutes of battle. Lyone couldn't lift his sword anymore and his legs shook if he tried to stand.

"Keep…" he started panting, "the sword… and gauntlets with-" he swallowed audibly, "me." Lyone made a face at the horrible taste in his mouth; rotten cheese and rotten flesh.

After a few minutes the game left, his wounds were healed, even the scars; but everything ached now.

Lyone grabbed one of the reinforcement troops passing by.

"The assault?" he questioned.

"Went perfectly thanks to us." He replied smugly. "Arthas escaped but we took this stronghold."

After a glum nod Lyone passed out.


	2. Death Knight

Chapter two is up and running. Please see the disclaimer on chapter one, it applies here as well.

Chapter 2: Death Knight

Lyone wondered again if he had gone insane. Two Ghouls had found him wandering through Undead territory. The beast on his left jumped at him first, the other began to do the same.

Lyone braced his shield against his left side and rammed it into the leaping Ghoul; it was sent sprawling beneath a rotten tree.

Hellsbane swung straight into the other with enough force to throw it to the ground. The Undead creature spasmed and went still.

The sprawling Ghoul slid away just in time to avoid being bisected. Claws ripped into armor as Lyone backpedaled. He lashed with Hellsbane once more to cleave off its head.

Lyone smashed both skulls and felt his rumbling stomach. Death destroyed any food he could have come across so far. Lyone continued walking.

Arthas had tried to betray him. Now he didn't even know what was going to become of him. So he went AWOL in search of the prince.

Living green finally entered Lyone's view. A deteriorating clearing of grass and forest lay before him. He quickly raided the landscape. Nuts, berries and two slightly under ripe apples.

"This war is even reshaping growing patters…." Lyone looked across summer and spring plants alongside winter ones.

The foul mist of the Undead roiled over the last tree as he made his way out.

Long enough later that his meal began to run thin Lyone heard a distant death-shriek. A human one.

Moments later Lyone looked down upon a town under attack. Militia forces were fighting Ghouls and Abomination, two of them. Two siege engines laid waste to civilians and homes alike.

Lyone was atop a small cliff that went to a steep incline after a short fall. The area below him was newly deforested; occasional stumps dotted the landscape. He jumped off.

Screams punctuated his own thoughts of doubt as he entered a roll. After the first spin he threw his shield down the hill. Unfortunately the tactic backfired. The protection caught on a stump, Lyone rolled past.

Curing under his breath he concentrated on not killing himself on the way down. Only once did he have to push himself into the air to avoid a stump.

Lyone kicked out to roll himself to his feet. Pausing for a moment to collect himself; he peered around. It hadn't receded into chaos yet. _Good_.

Lyone rushed to the front line getting surprised a welcome looks from the militia. The same surprised accompanied by confusion passed over the Undead's distorted eyes.

Hellsbane was plunged into the first Ghoul Lyone came to. He charged his blade, and the Ghoul, into one of the rightfully named Abominations.

Lyone withdrew Hellsbane from the two corpses, the Ghoul actually being inanimate now. He clumsily staggered to the side to avoid a crushing blow from the creature. Hellsbane lashed across its gut, Lyone was about to cut it again when the Abomination struck him from the other side.

The blade ripped through it again as Lyone went flying into a group of Ghouls. His side lit up with flaming pain.

Rolling off, he stabbed Hellsbane into the Ghoul below him. Another cleaved straight through his armor on his back Lyone spun around to sink his sword into the creature's side, cutting off its left arm in the process.

Lyone shoulder charged it to get back beside living people, sending the Ghoul sprawling. Half the militia was dead; the other abomination had been taken down along with most of the Ghouls.

The last group of Ghouls ran toward Lyone and the surrounding men. He pulled his sword over his head and slammed it down as hard as he could manage; slicing down the neck of a Ghoul to its belly.

The unholy creature fell after the sword was pulled out.

A militiaman yelled in pain to Lyone's left. He dispatched another Ghoul with the help of two other men; then found two Ghouls were eating the screaming man.

Lyone's anger erupted all at once. He began to cleave through the Ghoul's backs.

Soon all lay dead, the meat wagons had turned in retreat, a few men were hacking away at the enchanted siege weapons.

A shine of green caught Lyone's eye. He dashed into the woods to it. Leaves scattered while he burst in on the Necromancer.

"What is wrong with you!" Its raspy voice called.

"You're trying to kill our people, " Lyone stalked angrily toward it.

"But-" it stepped backwards, " you're a Death Knight, why do you fight for them?"

Lyone stopped dead, "what!"

"You have mage potential, your body can persist without its soul, which _is_ missing! You should be serving the Lich."

"No…"

The dark mage could see an opportunity when it presented itself. "Yes. You are one of us, those people wont want you anymore."

"You're wrong!" he shouted, More trying to convince himself. Lyone suddenly lashed out with Hellsbane and beheaded the Necromancer. "Audrey will always want me." That was it. His wife would always love him no matter what happened.

_But if I am a Death Knight… couldn't I-_ Lyone searched the death mage for something.

He came up with the arcane texts of the foul creature's practice. As his luck would have it, the Necromancer even had the Adept book.

"I found what I needed," Lyone said to the once-again corpse. "Time to go back, " Lyone turned on his heel and slipped through the celebrating town; taking some of the offered food for his service.


End file.
